That's Not How It Happened!
by Collegekid2006
Summary: The psych cast meets their alter-egos. Chapter 1: Gus and Shawn have a serious bone to pick with Dule Hill and James Roday. Chapter 2: Tim, meet Lassie...Ch. 3: Jules and Maggie dish...Ch. 4: Henry has some advice for Corbin...Ch. 5: Sage and Buzz
1. Chapter 1

"All right," Shawn intoned seriously, looking at each person who was seated around the small restaurant booth. "I think we all know why we're here."

Gus nodded in solemn agreement, but James and Dule just glanced at each other quizzically before finally looking back at Shawn.

"_We_ don't." James answered for both of them. "What's going on?"

Shawn cleared his throat delicately, trying to find the most tactful way to broach the apparently sensitive subject.

"Just tell them!" Gus urged, nudging his friend with his elbow.

"Okay…" Shawn sighed in resignation, finally turning to James. "…First of all, I love the hair."

"Thanks…" James murmured, running his fingers through his hair, still slightly perplexed.

"Seriously, dude. What do you use? Paul Mitchell?" Shawn pressed on, doing anything he could to avoid the actual subject.

"Shawn!" Gus snapped impatiently. "We're not here to talk about hair!"

"Then why _are_ we here?" Dule demanded, glancing at his watch. "We're supposed to be on the set."

"Yeah…about that…"

Shawn coughed loudly, still hedging for some reason. Gus rolled his eyes and finally stepped in.

"Stop playing us like goofballs!" He exclaimed.

James and Dule blinked in surprise.

"_Goofballs?_" Dule snorted, folding his arms across his chest defensively.

Shawn shrugged apologetically at James.

"_I _think you're cool…" he murmured.

"_Cool?!_" Gus hissed, glaring at his best friend. "Shawn, we talked about this! They're making us look like goofballs!"

"We are not!" Dule insisted. "We're just remaining true to the integrity of our characters!"

"_Integrity?!_ Gus shot back, grabbing his briefcase off the floor.

"Oh, God, Gus…" Shawn groaned. "Not the briefcase…"

But it was too late. Gus had already opened it and produced several photos, which he plopped on the table between them.

"Look at this!" He shouted, grabbing one of the photos and holding it up for everyone to see.

It was a screen still from Psych. In it, Dule's shirt had been ripped open and his head was covered in shaving cream.

"You call _that _integrity?" Gus demanded, absolutely fuming. "You made me look like a…a…"

"…a goofball?" James finished the thought for him, trying to suppress a laugh.

Dule glared at him.

"Not helping, James." He growled.

"That never happened!" Gus yelled. "I've never been attacked by girls at a bachelorette party in my life!"  
"Really?" Shawn grinned, his eyebrows arching. "You should try it sometime, Dude…it's fun!"

"Look, Gus." Dule sighed. "I don't know what to tell you…it was funny!"

"_Funny?_ You think making me look like an idiot is _funny?_"

"Well…" Shawn shrugged, assuming he was speaking for the group. "….It _is_ kind of funny…"

"Oh, yeah?" Gus snapped, grabbing another one of the photos. "Then how about _this?_"

He held it up, and James immediately burst out laughing.

It was another screen still from Psych. This one was from the _Nine Lives_ episode, and it showed Shawn sitting on Lassiter's lap after recovering from a "psychic vision", which had involved a dazzling, stretchy dance number.

"That never happened, either!" Gus continued. "Shawn wouldn't sit in Lassiter's lap! And he sure as heck wouldn't dance! And why is he always fighting with that guy from _Major League?_ His dad's not like that at all! Actually, Henry's a really nice guy!"

"We _wanted_ nice…" James explained, shrugging limply. "But Corbin thought gruff was the way to go…and Steve Franks agreed…"

"Well, Henry's not gruff!"

"Oh, come on!" Shawn rolled his eyes. "He's a little gruff…"

"The _point_," Gus snapped, glaring at Shawn. "Is that you aren't accurately representing us! We're not bumbling goofs! We are serious detectives!"

There were several more screen stills left on the table. Gus picked them up and showed them to James and Dule. Each of them showed Gus making a different facial expression, ranging from apprehensive to terrified to mildly amused to smug.

"And what is up with these faces?" He growled at Dule. "I do _not _make faces like this!"

"Are you kidding?" Shawn laughed. "Dude! He has you nailed!"

"He does not!"

He looked around the table, expecting someone to back him up on this. But no one did.

"You do kind of make faces…" James told him quietly.

"…I just act what I see…" Dule added.

Gus' eyes narrowed bitterly.

"Well, I was still never attacked by girls at a bachelorette party!"


	2. Chapter 2

Tim ducked into his dressing room between takes, hoping for five minutes of peace and quiet.

He groaned the second he opened the door.

Sitting there, in _his _chair in front of _his_ mirror reading _his _copy of that week's script, was Carlton Lassiter.

"What the heck are you doing, Lassiter?" Tim growled, shutting the door behind him.

Lassiter glanced up from the script, his face twisted into an angry pretzel.

"What am _I _doing?" He spat back, waving the script through the air like a sword. "What the _hell _are _you_ doing? What is this crap?"

"What crap?" Tim sighed, gently massaging the bridge of his nose as he mentally began counting to ten.

"The script!"

Lassiter flung the pages across the room at Tim, who caught them and quickly looked them over.

"What about it?" He mumbled. "It's a good episode."

"Look at the title!" Lassiter bellowed, standing up and angrily storming across the room.

"'Shawn Vs. The Red Phantom'." Tim read the title page aloud, still not seeing the problem.

"Exactly!" Lassiter sneered, snatching the script out of his fingers. "_Shawn_ Vs. The Red Phantom! _Shawn!_ The whole episode is about Spencer! They cut out all my good scenes with Karen! I saved her life _and _delivered that baby, and I'm only getting five minutes of screen time! The episode _should _be called 'The Brave Detective Vs. The Evil Reddish-Kind-of-Pinkish-Okay-I-Didn't-Get-A-Very-Good-Look-At-It Placenta!'"

Tim rolled his eyes.

By now, he was starting to get used to these conversations with Lassiter.

"Well, Shawn _is_ the star…" he sighed, hoping to pacify the fuming detective.

"_Spencer?_" Lassiter snorted. "The _star? _All he does is annoy the hell out of everyone! This is supposed to be a police procedural! Like CSI! Spencer's not even a cop! He's lucky we even _let_ him in the show!"

"Yeah…" Tim coughed discreetly. "…Right…"

"He is!" Lassiter insisted, unfazed by Tim's obvious sarcasm. "…And what the _hell_ is up with this crap on page 57 about me wanting kids?"

"What?" Tim blinked, quickly flipping to the page. "It's a great character moment! It really lets the audience see your humanity…I'm looking forward to playing the scene."

"I'm a _cop!_" Lassiter shouted indignantly. "Cops don't talk about wanting kids! Cops don't have character moments!..._And-_" He added with a pointed, bitter scowl. "…I told you about that in _confidence! _You weren't supposed to go blabbing it to the writers!"

"I didn't go blabbing!" Tim insisted defensively, perching in his chair. "I just thought it was a good chance to show…the real Lassiter…you know, the man behind the scowl."

Lassiter's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"_Behind_ the scowl?" He repeated in a low, furious roar. "Where the _hell_ do you get off putting _anything _behind _my _scowl?!"

"Look…Carlton." Tim sighed, turning in his chair so he was facing the detective. "You're a good guy…a great detective…but without these little moments, you kind of come off a little…"

He paused, searching the air in front of his mirror for the right words.

"A little _what?_"

"Well…a little…cold."

"Cold?"

For a moment, Lassiter almost looked hurt.

"Is that how people perceive me?" He asked quietly.

Tim nodded slowly.

"That's why you need these moments."

Lassiter blinked slowly.

It was a lot to absorb all at once.

Finally, a dark cloud settled over his face and his jaw tightened.

"Well, I'm still never telling you anything again!" He snapped, marching out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

Tim rolled his eyes, looking in the mirror thoughtfully.

"Is that how people perceive me?" He said, lowering his voice to mimic Lassiter's inflection.

"Is that how people perceive me?"

He cleared his throat, still not satisfied with his efforts, and tried one more time.

"Is that how people perceive me?"  
This time, he smiled at his reflection.

"Yeah…" he murmured. "…That's it…"


	3. Chapter 3

"_Close-Talking?_" Juliet groaned, collapsing onto Maggie's couch. "Did you have to do _Close-Talking? _You're killing me!"

She took a long, weary sip of her tea, shuddering with the memory.

"What?" Maggie asked, sounding surprised as she kicked off her shoes and grabbed her own tea off the coffee table. "It was a cute scene!"

She gently blew the steam off the top of the mug and curled up in the armchair.

"I know…" Juliet conceded. "But do you have _any_ idea how annoying Shawn's been since that episode? Every time I try to tell him something about a case we're working on, he stands two inches in front of my face! Then I forget what I was going to say, so he just keeps standing there, staring at me… I'm starting to go blind!"

Maggie laughed.

"That sounds like him."

"I mean," Juliet continued, sighing heavily. "I can deal with him repeating _every line_ of witty banter from every single episode…again and again and again and _again_…"

"He does that?"

"Are you kidding?" Juliet snorted. "He memorizes them word for word! But that's okay. I can deal with that…I could even deal with the endless Lou Diamond Philips jokes he cracked for a month and a half after that Psy vs. Psy episode aired….But this is too much. I swear, if he tries to close talk one more time, I think I might actually have to kill him."

"He really made Lou Diamond Philips jokes?" Maggie asked, trying to stop herself from laughing at the idea.

Juliet did not find it nearly as amusing as she did, however.

"_Bad _ones." She groaned. "I was actually going to ask the writers if they would work with him and get him some better material just so I wouldn't have to listen to it anymore!"

Maggie shook her head sympathetically, though she was still clearly deriving some secret enjoyment from Juliet's predicament.

"No more close-talking." She promised with a small smile. "I'll talk to the writers."

"Thank you." Juliet sighed in relief.

"…Though, you really can't blame the writers..." Maggie added as an afterthought.

Juliet looked puzzled as she gently placed her mug back on the coffee table.

"Why not?"

"Because…" Maggie shrugged casually, slowly taking another sip of tea. "That scene wasn't their idea…it was Shawn's."


	4. Chapter 4

"I have the new pages for you, Mr. Bernsen." The young assistant whose name Corbin could never remember said, handing him the pink papers before scurrying off again.

"Yeah…thanks…" Corbin murmured, flipping through them without much interest until he came to the last page, which wasn't pink. It was a piece of college ruled notebook paper with handwritten notes.

"What the hell…" Corbin muttered, his eyes narrowing as he scanned it.

He didn't get through three words, however, before crumpling it up and storming off to find Henry.

He found him at the craft services table.

"Henry!" He growled, thrusting the wrinkled page under his nose. "What the _hell_ is this?"

Henry put down the bagel he was eating and calmly looked at Corbin, apparently not the least bit daunted by the actor's rancor.

"Notes." He replied simply.

"Henry," Corbin sighed. "We've been over this. _You_ don't get to give me notes. You're not a writer _or_ the director."

"Please!" Henry scoffed. "I'm the _only_ one qualified to give you notes! What the hell would writers or directors know about playing me?"

"But these notes don't even make any sense!" Corbin shouted, smoothing the paper out on the table. "Look at this! 'Number 1: Lose the wig. You're not fooling anyone.' I mean, what the hell does that even mean?!"

"That doofy blonde wig you wear in the flashbacks!" Henry shot back, crossing his arms sternly. "You really think people believe you're suddenly twenty years younger just because you slap a dead rat on your head?"

"I like the wig!" Corbin snapped. "It comes across just fine!"

"You look like an idiot." Henry insisted. "Which makes _me_ look like an idiot. And my hair was never that floppy, anyway! Or that blonde!"

"Well, what do you want me to do?" Corbin demanded, also crossing his arms now. "Tell Steve to get a younger actor for the flashback scenes?"

"Yes!…Actually, if you could get that guy from _Lost_…_he_ looks more like me than you do."

"Who?" Corbin grinned cruelly. "Terry O'Quinn?"

Henry was not amused by the quip.

"No, smartass." He growled. "That….Sawyer guy."

"Yeah. Right." Corbin rolled his eyes. "I'm sure Josh Holloway will leave _Lost_ to play _you_ in a two-minute flashback scene every episode."

"Well, it's better than that stupid wig!"

"Forget it, Henry." Corbin grunted, looking down at the notes again.

"'Number 2--" he read aloud. "'Stop hosting lame game shows in your spare time.'"

"That's just common sense." Henry snorted. "You're playing _me_ now, and I don't want _my_ reputation tarnished just because _you_ want to make a few extra bucks! It's bad enough I have to put up with the humiliation of being played by Arnie Becker!"

"Hey!" Corbin argued. "Arnie was a great character!"

"Then let _him_ host the stupid game shows! Good God, I have my dignity to think about! Speaking of which…"

Henry tapped the third bulleted item on the page.

"'Stop wearing ugly shirts.'" Corbin read, then groaned wearily. "Henry, we've been over this. I don't have any control over wardrobe!"

"Well, do _something_!" Henry growled. "I wouldn't be caught dead in half those hideous things!"

"I'll see what I can do…" Corbin sighed, hoping if he pretended to give in on something Henry would just leave him alone.

"Good." Henry nodded.

Corbin rolled his eyes and moved on to the last item on the list.

"…'And if you ever play me drunk again like in that Scary Sherry episode, I'll kick your…'" he paused, his brow furrowing.

"What's that last letter?" He asked, pointing to the page. "I can't read it."

Henry glanced down at it.

"S."

"Oh."

Corbin cleared his throat.

"…So, no more drunk Henry, then…"

"No." Henry agreed, once again crossing his arms firmly.


	5. Chapter 5

Even though the note instructing him to be at the library at 8 PM sharp was unsigned, Sage knew who it was from.

There was only one person on earth who would want to meet him at the library.

Buzz McNab.

He arrived at the meeting a few minutes early, his stomach flopping nervously as he pushed open the heavy wooden doors and stepped inside.

He had a sneaking suspicion he knew what this meeting was about…

Sure enough, Buzz was waiting for him in the Quiet Study Room, a mountain of really big books surrounding him.

Sage inhaled slowly, building up his courage before finally approaching him.

"Hi, Buzz." He greeted the officer quietly, sliding into the chair across from him. Buzz glanced up from the book he was reading, gently removing his glasses and setting them aside.

"Oh. Hello, Sage." He greeted, also in a library-appropriate whisper. "Thank you for meeting me on such short notice. I apologize for the inconvenient accommodations, but I couldn't pull myself away from my thesis. I'm sure you understand."

"Yeah…" Sage mumbled, his mind working furiously to remember what, exactly, a thesis was. He seemed to remember something about it being a sentence in a report…

"Anyway," Buzz continued, folding his hands neatly across the open book in front of him. "I need to discuss something with you that is of the utmost importance, and couldn't in good conscience postpone it any longer."

"What is it?" Sage asked, proud of himself for understanding about 90 percent of what Buzz was saying.

"Well…" Buzz sighed thoughtfully, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. "You know I don't generally watch the show…it's terribly silly. Juvenile humor, pop culture references, completely ridiculous murder plots…it's enough to make you dive back into Byron and Shelley and hold on for dear life."

He chuckled at his own wit, but Sage just continued to stare blankly at him, trying to figure out what he was getting at.

"Yes….anyway," Buzz pushed on when his humor went unappreciated, clearing his throat. "I happened to catch the episode last night….completely an accident, you know. I was looking for the Ken Burns documentary...anyway, I happened upon the show. _And_ your portrayal of me…"

This last sentence was spoken with a distinctly reproving tone, which Sage immediately picked up on.

"My portrayal of you?" He repeated slowly, finally catching up. "You didn't like it?"

"Well, it's not that I didn't _like_ it, per se." Buzz corrected him quickly. "It was quite amusing in some parts, actually…in a provincial sort of way."

"Right…"

"My problem, Sage, is that it was supposed to be _me._"

"Right. Buzz McNab." Sage agreed, nodding eagerly.

"So, you see my problem."

"Umm…"

Sage's brow wrinkled in deep thought as he struggled to understand the problem.

He had worn the name tag with Buzz McNab printed on it through the whole episode…

He had responded to the name every time someone called him…

He had even stitched the name into the character's underwear…

What was he missing?

"Sage," Buzz sighed, finally realizing his alter-ego had no idea what the problem was. "You played me...well…"

He hesitated, looking for the most tactful way to put this.

"What?"

"Well…you made me seem kind of…just _slightly_, mind you…slow."

For a moment, Sage didn't say anything.

"Slow?" He repeated finally.

Buzz rolled his eyes, starting to grow slightly impatient.

"Yes, Sage. Slow. Now, I know it's not your fault…the show needs some….what do you call it?...comedic relief?...But _I_ shouldn't be the comedic relief, Sage. I am _not_ a clown."

"Of course not!" Sage agreed. "You're a cop!"

"Exactly!" Buzz grinned, nodding. "I joined the force for the intellectual stimulation, not the donuts. I've solved over a hundred cases on my own. I have two Master's degrees and a PhD, and I'm working on my second PhD. Ask Detective Lassiter! I'm an asset to the force, not the trained monkey. Okay?"

"Trained monkey?" Sage repeated, this time looking slightly offended.

"I'm sorry. Was that harsh?" Buzz asked, blinking.

"Well…it kinda hurt my feelings…" Sage mumbled.

"Then I apologize…but you see my dilemma. I am a highly-effective officer of the law, and to see myself portrayed as…well…"

"Slow?"

"Yes…thank you. Slow…was a bit disconcerting, if I may be completely honest."

"Okay…" Sage nodded slowly, leaning forward. "I can work on smartening up."

"That's all I ask."

"Where should I start?"

Buzz sat back in his chair, regarding his protégé discriminatingly.

"Well, let's just start with not appearing on-screen in boxer shorts, shall we?"


End file.
